


One Moment

by Guardian_of_Hope



Category: Chronicles of Narnia
Genre: Complete, Drama, Family, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-12-31
Updated: 2010-12-31
Packaged: 2017-10-19 05:12:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,121
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/197269
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Guardian_of_Hope/pseuds/Guardian_of_Hope
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the beginning, they were children.</p>
            </blockquote>





	One Moment

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Chronicles of Narnia is owned by C.S. Lewis and his Heirs, not me.

Peter stands on the highest point of Cair Paravel, staring at the white marble under his feet. He tries not to notice the tunic and hose he'd been forced into wearing or the oddly pointed shoes, but he can feel the silk, velvet and leather, and it's distinctly odd when he'd normally be wearing cotton. A particularly loud wave makes him flinch and he looks up. The sea is black and silver in the moonlight, with the stars above. He has heard that there are islands out there, but he can't see them. "Hail Mary," he begins and stops, flinching. Here is not England, there is no cross and kindly saints in the chapel they had seen on the tour. No, here is the Lion and only the Lion.

 _I'm only fifteen!_ He longs to shout at the strange stars and the uncaring waves, but does not. Instead he turns. With his back towards the lands of the Emperor-Over-The-Sea and Aslan, he sees the land he had been given to rule. There were bonfires dotting the countryside, and in his mind, Peter could picture Fawns, Satyrs, and others dancing around the fires, celebrating the victory.

He closed his eyes, remembering the conversation he'd overheard between Oreius and one of the Fauns. There was flooding from the snows, and the lowlands were becoming uninhabitable. The ground was so saturated that they feared the crops would rot before they even had a chance at to harvest them. They had become quiet when he'd approached them, and he knew they didn't want him to know the truth of things.

Aslan set him to rule Narnia, a boy, King in name only. Today they celebrated him, but tomorrow they would see what he saw, a boy who barely passed his classes and had fought more with his siblings over the last cookie than enemies over land. Peter clinched his hands, and then released them. It was time for bed, he decided. Tomorrow, he would ask Oreius about training and track down that fawn as well.

xxXXxx

Susan sits in her bedroom, staring out the open window at the sea. Her lips move as she runs her hairbrush over her hair, one hundred strokes every night, just like her mother had told her to do. There is no one else in her bedroom and Susan feels guilty even as she is relieved. The Narnians are so _strange._ They were all nice and welcoming and so excited that they had Kings and Queens on the thrones, but it was very disconcerting to shake hands with monkey or a dog and listen to them tell you how wonderful it was that you were there.

Peter had vanished towards the end of the ball, after Lucy had told him he was looking constipated, not like he was happy. Edmund hadn't stayed long either, but Lucy had been dancing still when Susan had finally left. Susan looks down at her brush, realizing she'd lost count of the strokes, but knowing she'd definitely hit one hundred. She places the brush down and begins to braid her hair for bed.

She wonders if she will ever get used to the Narnians, with their strange faces and strange ways. She knows she must, having accepted the Lion's request, but still afraid that she will one day go completely mad and huddle in a corner, or under her desk and scream and cry and beg to go home where animals don't talk and Satyrs and Fauns are only present in _plays._

Tying off the braid, Susan stands up. Time for bed, and tomorrow she would speak to the housekeeper about Cair Paravel.

xxXXxx

Edmund leaves the coronation ball after Aslan leaves, not even waiting for the whispers to begin. He has seen the looks they gave him and he knows the words they whisper, _traitor, betrayer, Witch's Pet._ He wonders how long it will take them to forget Aslan's word and throw him from Narnia.

As he passes a pair of leopards who watch him silently, he longs to shout at them. _I am eleven years old, a child, I did not know!_

He does not, only speeds his steps around a corner and out of sight. He knows that saying anything will do no good. It's as his father would say, 'Ignorance of the law is no excuse'.

Voices echo around him and Edmund realizes he does not wish to be seen. There are a set of double doors ahead and he pulls them open enough to slip inside. The room is a small library, not the Great Library they'd seen earlier. This one has a single, well appointed desk and a few strategically placed reading chairs, but most of the space is taken up with shelves of books and racks of scrolls.

Curious, Edmund moves to look at the first set of shelves. A red leather book catches his eye and he pulls it down. Its cover reads _Culture, Tradition, and Law_. Edmund takes the book to one of the chairs and sits down as he opens it. Any exhaustion he might have felt is now long gone.

xxXXxx

Lucy does not want the night to end. Breathless with laughter, she claims a seat on the dais to watch as the Fawns and Satyrs swirl around the Dwarves, the Dryads and the Talking Beasts. Most of the Centaurs are gone, but the dance is still going strong. A servant comes by and gives Lucy a cup of cider which Lucy accepts with a smile, secretly wishing she could have another cup of wine. Peter however had forbidden it earlier when he caught her drinking the first cup.

The lights of Cair Paravel are bright, reflecting off the glass in the Great Hall and the open terraces allow enough of a breeze to keep the room from being stifling. She was so happy they had come to Narnia; even if the battle had been scary, the people were wonderful. There was a Talking Cat in the room that looked like her kitten Boots, and one of the Talking Horses had promised to teach her to ride, something she couldn't have done in Finchley.

The only thing marring her night was her wish that her mother and father could have been there to see it all.

One of the Satyrs, a red haired girl with a bright smile, appears, startling Lucy out of her thoughts. She offers her hand as a new dance begins. Lucy laughs and takes it, allowing herself to be carried away into another round dance. Lucy doesn't know what will happen tomorrow, but right here and now, there is music, laughter and new friends and that is enough for her.


End file.
